In Another Reality
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: An AU story where Kirk and Christine Chapel fall in love and marry despite Spock's best efforts to win her back ... although he does eventually find a new love aboard ship.


**In Another Reality  
By JM Lane**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Paramount except my imagination and this story.

Christine Chapel had never hurt so much in her life. Not that she hadn't been hurt before —and always by the same man, that impossibly gorgeous but godawful stubborn and infuriatingly logical Vulcan, the First Officer of the _Enterprise_—but this pain was greater than any she had ever known, greater than any he had ever inflicted on her…and she was sick and tired of it.

This was the last straw—she had had it once and for all. As the old saying went, she was "mad as hell and wasn't going to take it any more!" How could she have been so stupidly blind, to have let him get to her when she knew Vulcans' attitude toward emotions of any kind, particularly romantic ones? Of course, it would have been a lot easier to control her hormones if he hadn't been so heartbreakingly handsome, hadn't had those soft, deep brown velvet eyes and equally deep velvet voice, but that was beside the point.

Everyone she knew had told her that he would break her heart, but their warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Only now had she realized how right they were—and vowed "Never again! It's just not worth it. No man is worth it!" Not that it was going to be easy to fall _out_ of love with the man, especially since it had been so frighteningly easy to fall _in_--particularly after she'd lost Roger so nightmarishly on Exo III.

Spock had been so much like Roger it was uncanny: gentle, peace-loving and the best in his field…and that was just for starters. Too bad she hadn't known at the time that the only feelings Spock ever displayed were for Kirk; no one else seemed to exist for him. The rest of the crew seemed to simply be necessary evils that the Vulcan endured for the sake of staying around Kirk. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she had first been told, and had in fact, redoubled her efforts to make him notice her…until this latest (and _final_—she would see to that) fiasco.

Not that she hadn't heard of his romances with other women, of course, but he didn't seem to notice _she_ was alive, much less that she was just as much a woman as they—and more than most, she was sure, particularly when she learned of the lying, scheming mercenary he had been bonded to. After the aborted wedding on Vulcan, which McCoy had told her about, she might have been invisible for all the notice Spock took of her.

But whenever Kirk was in the room, or came into the room, it was as though all others had vanished—he was all that Spock saw. The dark eyes softened and she had even caught him _smiling _at least once. A stark contrast to the cold black eyes which had stabbed through her the few times he had deigned to acknowledge her existence and the equally cold, formal demeanor he customarily adopted whenever she was in his vicinity.

Even at that, she still took the claims of their having a romantic relationship with several grains of salt, but after this latest incident, she was one step closer to believing it--particularly after what Spock had said about her. As if finding the two in each other's arms hadn't been bad enough! Not only that, Spock's head had been on Kirk's shoulder and the latter had been stroking his hair affectionately, while all the time the Vulcan's arms had been around the Captain's waist. He was doing all the things with Spock that she had never dared do…and to add insult to injury, Spock was enjoying it!

"You can't be serious, Spock," Kirk insisted. "Miss Chapel loves you. Loving someone is no crime. Arranging a transfer simply to get rid of her is a bit extreme, especially considering her flawless record."

Spock was unmoved. "Not when it interferes with my duties or embarrasses me in front of the crew. For that reason, it is the most logical course of action for all concerned." The Vulcan sighed. "It is easy for you to say such things, Jim. It is not you she is chasing. I have tried to be as polite as possible, but nothing I do gets through to her. I am not interested in romance with anyone at the moment; you are all I need. I have no wish to hurt her any more than I already have, but how can I get her to leave me alone without doing just that?"

"I don't know, Spock," Kirk returned apologetically. "I wish I did."

Christine felt tears fill her eyes, burning her eyelids and threatening to overflow; she bit her quivering lip to force them back even as she prepared to call to him—but she was spared having to do that when he lifted his head and saw her standing in the doorway a few yards away.

"Did you want something, Miss Chapel?" His eyes and demeanor were as cold as the depths of space.

"I…I wanted to ask you something, but I can see you're…occupied, so I'll get back to you later," she forced out, praying her tears didn't show in her voice. She had intended to leave after that, but seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move.

When Spock noticed her still there, he said, "If that is all you have to say, Miss Chapel, please leave now. Jim and I wish privacy. You may discuss your business with me at a later time." When she took a tentative step toward him, he held out a hand to stop her. "I asked you to leave." His voice had become even colder, if that was possible.

Her reply came back harsh and bitter, laced with sarcasm, anger and pain. "Oh, I'm going, Spock. You may have no fear of that—and not only out of this room, but off this ship! You'll be rid of me and my unwanted attentions once and for all. And there's no need to arrange a transfer, either. I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. I don't hang around where I'm not wanted. Incidentally, I hope you two _friends _are very happy together. Goodbye and good riddance!" She turned on her heel and fled, throat aching from the effort of holding back tears…but now they streamed down her cheeks unchecked.

"Christine—Miss Chapel!" they called after her, realizing she must have overheard their conversation and wanting to explain, but she didn't give them the chance. A moment later, the Lounge doors closed behind her and she was gone.

They didn't get a chance later, either. Nothing they did, every attempt to explain was thwarted—and Spock gave up sooner than Kirk did. It was obvious that she wasn't interested in the truth or their explanations, so it was illogical to continue trying. He couldn't understand why Jim continued to pursue the matter, despite his explanation for doing so.

"She is…her skills are…far too valuable to lose. Besides, I doubt you could explain satisfactorily to Fleet Command just why you want her gone. As far as that goes, no one else does—and I'm afraid majority must rule, Spock. You'll just have to tough it out."

"I understand, Jim—but she has already attempted to transfer and you refused it," the Vulcan pointed out.

"And I told her why--the same thing I told you," Kirk said. "The only way she's getting off this ship is if she deserts…and I doubt she'll do that, in spite of the way you treat her."

"What do you expect me to do, Jim? As I told you, I am not interested in romance. All I need right now is friendship—_your_ friendship."

"And never mind if there are other people who care about you, other people who want to be your friends." Kirk's voice sounded like a parent scolding an insolent child.

"I do not mean to hurt them, Jim, and I…appreciate their feelings for me, but it was--difficult enough for me to 'open up', as you say, to _you_, much less anyone else."

"That doesn't mean you won't need other friends later on," Kirk reminded him. "And you won't have them if you keep pushing them away." The Captain took a breath, then continued. "It's a cinch that you aren't _my_ only friend. There's Bones, there's Uhura, there's Scotty…" Kirk's voice trailed off. "Why should _I _be _your_ only friend? For God's sake, if you need help making other friends, just say the word. I certainly won't mind your having them. It's a pretty poor life that only has room for one other person in it, Spock. I won't live forever, you know—and if you keep shunting the others aside…" The Captain sighed. "You don't want to be alone the rest of your life, do you?"

The First Officer didn't want to admit the truth of what Jim said, but finally shook his head reluctantly. "But you know how Miss Chapel is likely to interpret any attention I pay to her."

"If you make it clear to her from the get-go that friendship is all you're after, she should get the message," Kirk assured him.

Spock wasn't convinced, but didn't argue. If Jim was so sure, the least he could do was try. But what finally happened was the last thing he'd ever expected…

Christine just couldn't figure out why Spock was so leery of her, T'Pring's treachery notwithstanding. For pity's sake, all she wanted to do was love the man. Was that such a crime? You'd have thought so, the way he treated her. It was almost as though he was actually _afraid_ of being loved, at least by a woman. But it wasn't as if she was unattractive!

After all, at least one man had wanted to marry her and others had asked her out despite her well-known love for the Vulcan First Officer. And there were several short-term affairs, both aboard ship and during her infrequent leaves, but she always seemed to return to Spock, no matter how he treated her, how often he kept her at both a physical and emotional distance. It didn't seem as though she would ever find a man to equal him, much less surpass him.

Kirk eventually managed to talk Christine out of leaving, although it had taken every ounce of his silver tongue to do it…and once she assured him that she would stay, he apologized on Spock's behalf.

"I'm sorry that Spock has treated you so badly, Christine. I frankly don't think he knows how to properly deal with a woman who actually loves him."

"It's not your fault, Captain. I should have expected something like this to happen a long time ago," Christine dismissed. "Unfortunately, since Spock is not generally one to apologize, I can understand why you would feel the necessity to do it for him. I must admit I always envied you your closeness to him, but now realize that you have also been the main one to show me compassion and concern for my feelings long after Spock quit trying—which he didn't do for very long. It would have been illogical for him to continue, especially given the lack of feedback. Besides…doing that would also have made it seem that he actually gave a damn about me. But next to you, logic is the most important thing in the galaxy to him. I'm not even in the running."

"Again, I'm very sorry for that, Christine. You deserve better."

"It's all right, Captain. That's just Spock being Vulcan."

"Still, you'd think that his mother would have taught him better regarding how to treat women."

"It might not have been her fault, Captain. Sarek may not have allowed her to have too much influence on Spock growing up."

"Possibly," Kirk conceded. "Even so, I would never treat you that way."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Christine smiled, reaching to squeeze Kirk's hand. "I appreciate everything you've done and will always be grateful to you for it."

"Thanks. By the way, have you had dinner yet?"

"No. Why?"

"Neither have I. Why don't you join me? I'd love to have someone to talk to."

"What about Spock? Doesn't he usually have dinner with you?"

"He has a late shift tonight," Kirk explained.

"In that case, I'd love to join you for dinner, Captain."

"Please call me Jim…but only when we're alone."

"All right—Jim. When is dinner?"

"How does 1830 hours sound?"

"Fine. See you then."

And so it began…

Christine had never dreamed that any man could be so funny, so charming and witty—but most of all, so thoughtful and considerate of a woman's innermost needs and desires. If it wasn't for his chosen profession, she felt sure that Kirk would have long since been married with at least a dozen kids.

As it was, she knew he had had liaisons with women on dozens of Federation worlds and virtually all of them maintained tender feelings for him even after their affairs were over: and even if they were presently married to other men. Not too many men were capable of doing that with even one woman, much less with as many as James Kirk had been involved with. (Too bad Spock couldn't have taken some pointers from him on how to treat women…)

Even she knew how charismatic Kirk was; that was part of what made him such a good Captain—but Spock was the kind that had only to exist to attract virtually every woman in sight. One would almost think that Vulcans gave off pheremones equal to those of Deltans! But Kirk knew how to use his power over women; Spock seemed unaware that he even had it. Either that or he chose not to use it.

But what ended up endearing Kirk to her for all time was the poignant story of his broken romance with Carol Marcus, now a noted scientist…and the mother of his son! When he finished, his head was bowed sadly and his eyes closed in pain. She couldn't resist reaching a hand to comfort him. "You mean you're—a father?"

"Only technically. After she gave birth, Carol told me to stay away from David altogether if I didn't plan on being a full-time father to him, that he deserved better than occasional visits and even more infrequent stargrams, much less gifts instead of quality time together."

"With a part of me, I can understand where she's coming from, but with another, I think it's very unfair that she never even gave you a chance to prove yourself as a father. Even a part-time father is better than none. It's got to hurt, never having the chance to hear your child say, 'I love you, Daddy,' and feel them hug or kiss you. Simply from what I know about you, I think you'd be a wonderful father. You care too much about people _not_ to be."

"Too bad Carol doesn't agree," Kirk returned morosely, once again bowing his head in pain.

"Doesn't she even keep you up-to-date on your son?" Christine sounded incredulous that any mother would keep a child from his father for any reason. "I would think that would be the least she could do, even if she won't let you see him or spend time with him."

"I don't even get pictures," Kirk replied quietly, but the pain was evident in his voice.

"That's terrible," Christine opined. "She's punishing David as well as you by denying the two of you the chance to know each other. There are a lot of kids with part-time fathers who love them just as much as any full-time one…and more than some."

"You sound like you're speaking of experience," Kirk observed, managing a wan smile.

"I am. Both my parents worked," Christine revealed. "Daddy was a diplomat, so he was gone a lot, but I never lacked for love from him…or Mama, either. Mama is a biochemist and still active in her field, but I always came first in their lives. They bent over backwards to make sure that they never missed any of the firsts in my life if they could help it. Not that they were perfect; by no means—and I had my share of gripes about them, like every child does—but overall, I'd not trade my childhood for anyone else's, not for all the credits in the Galaxy. At least I had parents who loved me, even if they weren't there 24 hours a day. That's more than a lot of people can say."

_Certainly more than Spock could say,_ Kirk thought, recalling the times his Vulcan friend had confided to him regarding his troubled childhood with an overly strict father whom he could never seem to please, no matter how hard he tried. The only things that made it anywhere near bearable was the love of his Human mother Amanda and the devotion of his beloved _sehlat_, I-Chaya.

"We're real lucky on that score, both of us," he remarked. "My father was career Starfleet and was gone a lot too, although he always kept in close touch with us while he was away. Even at that, Mom was the one who basically raised my brother Sam and me, although she always kept Dad up-to-date on Sam's and my latest doings. Our lives weren't perfect, but we were happy."

"Did you tell Carol that?"

"I did. Didn't change anything."

"Doesn't she know that not everyone can have a traditional family unit?" Christine asked rhetorically. "Who makes up that unit doesn't matter; their lifestyles don't matter. What matters is if the members love each other and are happy together."

"Unfortunately Carol's immovable once she makes up her mind," Kirk revealed.

"I like to think that she'll end up regretting that one day," Christine predicted.

"One can but hope," Kirk answered. "That may be the only way I get to see and spend time with my son."

"Do you think it's likely—her changing her mind, I mean?"

" 'fraid not," came the reply.

"Then the best you can hope for is that David eventually learns of his parentage and seeks you out when he's grown up."

"Probably," Kirk agreed. "Now can we get back to our meal?"

"Sure. It's awfully easy to get sidetracked, isn't it?"

Kirk smiled and nodded but didn't speak further; after that the two simply ate their meal and then the Captain escorted Christine back to her quarters.

"I had a very pleasant evening, Christine. Thank you for joining me."

"Thank you for asking me," she smiled.

"By the way, Spock is supposed to put on a private concert for the crew at 1900 hours tomorrow night. Would you like to go?"

"As your guest?"

"Of course," Kirk smiled.

Christine had no idea that anyone's smile could be so warm—and his lips were perfectly formed. For a moment she couldn't help wondering how it would feel to kiss him or feel those equally well-shaped hands on her body. Once she came back to herself, she couldn't help blushing, hoping Kirk hadn't seen. This was the only time since Roger died and she had fallen in love with Spock that she had ever had such thoughts about a man…and a man who wasn't Spock! If he had noticed her blushing, he didn't mention it--so she decided it was best not to press her luck.

"I'd love to. See you then."

"Great. I'll come by for you at 1830." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, then took his leave.

She watched until he turned the corner, then entered her own quarters and prepared for bed…but this night, her dreams were filled with tantalizing images of herself with another man—a man she had never considered before, but a man whom she definitely intended to get to know better, and to blazes with what anybody else thought: especially Spock!

There were a lot of wide-eyed stares and not a few gasps as Christine walked in that evening on Kirk's arm, although Spock naturally schooled himself to only raise an eyebrow before beginning his concert…at least at this point. But not even he would be able to ignore Jim's actions by the time the evening was over.

He hadn't seen his friend act this way with a woman since their time with Edith Keeler in 1930s New York. Of course, what was most important was that she was finally off _his_ back (at least that's what he told himself), but with a part of himself he was tempted to warn him off. He knew from experience how it was once a woman began chasing a man and didn't want his friend to be hurt again, especially not as he had been hurt at his breakup with Carol Marcus and losing Edith Keeler. On the other hand, Jim could handle himself—and women—far better than he himself could, so perhaps he was being overly concerned.

Unfortunately, he didn't consider how it might affect Christine should the relationship go sour, at least not immediately. In fact, Spock was all but convinced that she was doing this to get revenge against him, purely on the rebound, since she had never shown anything resembling romantic interest in the Captain up to this point…and even if they did have an affair, it would be one of Jim's numerous short-term romances.

Because he had never bothered to get to know Christine, the Vulcan was more shocked than anyone when he was proved wrong. The Captain and Christine were in the front row nearest to him, so Spock couldn't miss Jim reaching for her hand and entwining his fingers with hers—then a short time later his thumb began stroking her hand. She looked up and smiled sweetly at Kirk: a smile that Spock had only seen directed at _him_ before now.

In spite of all he could do, a knife-like pain slashed through his heart. It could have been himself doing that if he wasn't so stubborn, so unwilling to have allowed her close to him—feeling her warm smile, her fingers entwined with his, smelling her perfume… A moment later he forced himself to concentrate on the music he was playing, attempting to ignore the goings-on just a few feet away—and not succeeding.

That's not to say that no one else noticed. McCoy, who was sitting directly behind Jim and Christine, took note of everything the couple did, but his main interest lay in Spock's reactions. He might have been hallucinating, of course, but he could have sworn that Spock had winced in pain upon seeing Jim holding Christine's hand and then her tender smile back at him.

He briefly considered teasing Spock about it, but knew the First Officer would deny any such thing. Spock was hiding it well, but the Doctor was certain it had to be driving him crazy, whether he admitted it or not—and knowing Spock, McCoy was sure it would be the latter. He made a mental note to ask Jim just what was going on at the first opportunity.

Uhura had noticed the same things, being three people down from McCoy, particularly the tender smile Chris had bestowed on Kirk. She had never seen her friend smile at anyone like that except Spock…or when she'd thought of her former fiancé Roger Korby. Why was she doing this? Simply to see if she could get a reaction out of Spock? Certainly she couldn't be falling in love with the Captain—not this soon, anyway. She would have to have a private talk with Chris at the first opportunity.

All three of the ones observing the couple would have been both happy and sad (although one of the pair would have scoffed, unwilling to believe that he was even capable of it—at least as far as she was concerned) if they could have known their thoughts. Christine found it hard to believe that she could be sitting next to Kirk, holding hands with him…or that she would ever want to, especially in front of Spock.

_Strange how I was never good enough for the First Officer of this ship, but the Captain likes me just fine. I know he's a ladies' man, but that's beside the point. What matters is that he knows how to treat a woman and that I'm having a good time with him._

And because she was in the front row (not to mention the fact that she had made it her business to note every change of expression, however minute, on Spock's face long before this), Christine had also caught his wince when Kirk entwined his fingers with hers and she smiled sweetly at him. Of course, she was convinced that it couldn't possibly be because of _her_ actions. It was far more likely to be because of Kirk's actions.

She was also certain that she knew the answer to this question: If it came down to Spock being the only one in a position to save either her or Kirk in a crisis, who would it be? It was a difficult and painful admission, but she was convinced of its truth, simply judging from Spock's past actions where the Captain was concerned. _Need I even ask?_ she thought bitterly, with a sharp pain in the vicinity of her heart. _It's a foregone conclusion! _In which case, she'd better be ready to meet her Maker if the situation ever arose. A familiar gentle voice brought her back to reality.

"Christine, why do you look so sad?" Kirk's warm baritone was rich with concern.

"Just thinking about what would be likely to happen if Spock ever had a choice between saving you and saving me."

"And you think he would choose me over you," Kirk finished.

"I _know_ it," she returned morosely. "Which is why I intend to have all my affairs taken care of beforehand in order to be prepared when and if the situation arises."

"Christine, don't think like that, especially at a time like this. We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves." His admonition held affectionate exasperation.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it—can't help wondering just what you have that I don't. I mean, it doesn't do a heck of a lot for a lady's ego to knock herself out trying to get a certain person's attention, yet he still treats her like a piece of Sickbay furniture. And then to add insult to injury, I have to hear about his other women: Droxine, Leila, T'Pring, Zarabeth, the female Romulan Commander…"

Her voice trailed off so that Kirk was barely able to hear it, but he could imagine the pain she must be feeling at the consistent rejections of her affections by his still very lonely yet equally stubborn friend. He could only hope Spock wouldn't end up regretting his actions for the rest of his life, but was frankly positive that one day he would…and worst of all, nothing even he had said had ever sunk in. Shortly after this, he reinforced his vow never to hurt her as Spock had if he could possibly help it—and certainly not intentionally.

"If Spock chooses not to see how lovely you are, then it's his loss, not yours," Kirk declared, taking her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. "_I_ appreciate you."

"Thank you…Jim." She raised her head and smiled sweetly at him.

"He may be my best friend, but that doesn't keep him from being a blind, insensitive jerk. How could any man with an ounce of hormones—not to mention logic—ever pass up such as you? I, for one, certainly don't intend to." His hand tightened around hers as Spock launched into the popular ballad _Beyond Antares._ "If he can't see what a gem you are, he deserves to lose you."

Kirk's warmth and reassurance was a soothing balm on Christine's lacerated heart. Just the same, she wished with every ounce of her being that it could have been Spock doing these things. He was certainly capable of it! Just not with her, it seemed— so she had better get this hard, painful fact through her head once and for all.

The concert was over within half an hour after this since all concerned had early shifts, but Kirk made it a point to walk Christine back to her quarters. She again saw Spock wince in pain as he went one way and she and Kirk went the opposite; with a part of her she even enjoyed it. Served him right; maybe now he had some idea how she felt having had to watch _him_ go off with Kirk after pointedly ignoring her, having to hear about them doing things together that she had never dared even suggest to him!

"See you in the morning, Spock," the Captain had called over his shoulder. "You too, Bones." McCoy was the only one who responded, however, with a smile and a wave just before disappearing around a corner in the general direction of his own quarters.

Out of the corner of her eye, Christine saw Uhura come out of the Officers' Lounge and called to her. "What do you say we get together tomorrow when we're both off-duty, Ny?"

"Just let me know when, Chris," Uhura called back, then continued on until she too had disappeared around the corner heading to her own quarters.

"Would you like a late dinner, Christine?" Kirk asked, knowing she hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning—and even then, only at his insistence.

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry, just tired," she told him as he matched his steps to hers.

"You need to eat," he gently admonished.

"You're beginning to sound like Leonard at his worst," she countered playfully. "Don't worry, I don't intend to starve myself. I'm just too tired to eat right now."

"May I walk you to your quarters?"

"If you like," she dismissed, unable to imagine why he would suddenly prefer her company after all the years he had preferred Spock's, but frankly too tired and depressed to think on it further. All she wanted was to shower and go to sleep.

They walked in companionable silence, Christine not speaking again even after they reached her door. She simply smiled and politely dismissed him; Kirk told himself he understood why she wasn't in the mood for conversation and vowed not to pressure her any more than he would have Spock in the same situation.

"Good night, then," he told her. "Sleep well." She smiled again and nodded in his direction, then unlocked her door and disappeared through it.

Kirk turned on his heel and headed for his own quarters, where he had no doubt whatsoever that Spock would be waiting, full of questions as to his recent conduct…and he fully intended to have the answers for him upon arrival. Neither would it surprise him if he discovered later that Uhura had done the same with Christine, since she had to be as full of questions as to his and Christine's conduct as Spock surely was—not to mention McCoy. The only question was just who would approach them first.

Kirk's expectations were fulfilled. When he arrived at his quarters, he found Spock waiting patiently at the table in his living area with an expectant look on his face, even though the Captain was sure the Vulcan was totally unaware of it; it seemed an unconscious action on his part.

"Waiting for something, Spock?" he asked pleasantly as he moved toward his sleeping alcove. The First Officer got up and followed him.

"I must speak privately with you," the Vulcan remarked quietly but urgently.

Kirk didn't have to ask what about…or rather, _who, _but he did. "What's on your mind?"

"What happened at my…concert," was the reply as the two sat down together side-by-side on the end of the Captain's bed.

"What about it?" Kirk asked, seeing no sense in trying to deny anything he had done; he didn't have to answer to anyone as to what he did in his off-duty hours, not even to Spock…and considering the situation, _especially_ not to Spock. After all, why would the Vulcan object to his seeing Christine? As far as Kirk knew, Spock didn't give a tinker's damn about her—or so he claimed--so she was fair game, at least technically.

"Your…actions with Christine—Miss Chapel," Spock quickly corrected himself, but not quickly enough; Kirk picked up on it immediately.

"You object to my seeing her?" Kirk questioned point-blank, catching Spock off-guard for once.

"It is…most unusual for you," the First Officer pointed out, cleverly sidestepping the question. "You have never shown any romantic interest in her before this."

"So there's something wrong in my doing it now?" Kirk countered coolly. "I figure she's fair game. After all, you don't want her, so she has every right to see other men if she so chooses." The emphasis on the word "you" was subtle, but even though Spock caught it, he was unable to help reacting to the accusation—if only slightly.

"It is not my place to approve or disapprove," Spock returned neutrally, although Kirk knew him well enough to detect how hard he was controlling. "You have the right to live your life and date whomever you see fit. It is simply…a surprise."

_I'll bet,_ Kirk thought with an inward smile. "If you've had a change of heart and want to go after her, just say so and I'll bow out. I mainly dated her to make her forget her troubles for a little while—at least this time--although I can't say I'm not attracted to her. What man worthy of his hormones wouldn't be?" Kirk got an enigmatic smile on his face at the thought of the soft warmth and fragrance of the Head Nurse next to him, how much he had enjoyed her company, and how sweet her smile had been. In fact, it was reminiscent of Carol's at the height of their romance.

However, Spock knew him well enough to read what was behind that smile and was understandably apprehensive. Whenever Jim looked like that, a new romance couldn't be far behind. It hadn't bothered him before now, and even as much as he kept telling himself it didn't bother him now, it did, big-time.

After the way he'd always treated her, however, he had long ago forfeited any right he'd ever had to a romantic claim on her—so Jim had every right to date her if he so wished. But that didn't mean he had to like the idea…and one may be sure that he disliked it intensely. The feeling was illogical, implausible, absurd—but it was there. He couldn't explain it, but it was there…and Spock doubted it would change any time soon, if ever.

"I--have no right," he said, so quietly (and contritely) that even Kirk, who was listening carefully to everything he said, barely caught it. "After the way I have treated her, she would… never believe me, never accept any apology I gave. So I give you leave to pursue her if you so wish."

"Spock, you're not thinking straight. You shouldn't give up without even trying," Kirk affectionately admonished.

"What choice do I have? She deserves far better than me, someone who can freely show his emotions to her, treat her as she deserves…someone like you. You _do_ want to continue seeing her, do you not?"

"I want to go on seeing her, yes, I can't deny that--but at the same time, don't want to hurt _you_, either, Spock," Kirk insisted. "I wouldn't feel right stepping in without giving you a fair chance first."

"I have—had my chance…and 'blew it,' as you say. Blew it royally—so in spite of my own feelings in the matter, I am 'stepping aside,' as you put it, and leaving the field clear for you."

"I've never known you to give up so easily, Spock. You deserve a woman who truly loves you, just as I do…and I truly doubt that you've done anything so terrible that Christine couldn't forgive you."

"I—would prefer to believe that, but cannot afford to do so. I know how I myself would react in the same situation," the Vulcan countered, still unconvinced. "I cannot risk hurting her further."

Kirk sighed. "Suit yourself. I can only hope you don't end up regretting it for the rest of your life." He moved to lean on the table, elbows resting there as he entwined his fingers and rested his chin on them as he stared intently at his alien friend. "Besides, you should be well aware by now that you're hurting her simply by pushing her away, keeping her at arm's length. If you sacrifice this last chance and she hears about it, it'll end up hurting her even more."

This time it was Spock's turn to sigh, then give his friend a hopeful look. "Do you—really believe it likely that she would forgive me?"

"I think she'd at least hear you out and give you a chance to prove yourself. Other than that, I couldn't say what would happen, speaking as a man. You know as well as I do how unpredictable a woman's behavior can be, particularly at times like this. Besides, I'd feel better about beginning a romantic relationship with her if I knew I had given you a shot at her first. At least that way, if she returned to me after that, I'd know it would be her choice."

In spite of himself, Kirk was pleased that he had finally managed to convince Spock to give both her and himself the chance to see if they could actually have a romantic relationship. Then if things didn't work out, he could step in with a clear conscience. Of course, in convincing the Vulcan to do this, the Captain knew that he was risking his own developing relationship with Christine.

After all, she had loved Spock for a long time, and if he turned up the heat, as it were, how could he, Kirk, predict what the outcome would be? He was sure that Christine would jump at the chance, despite how much Spock had hurt her, if the latter could manage to convince her that he truly wished to attempt a romantic relationship.

In spite of himself, Kirk couldn't help but feel a stab of sharp pain in the vicinity of his heart, but he had to give his friend a chance to prove himself, had to give Christine this one chance at the relationship she had always dreamed of with the man she loved. All he could do now was wait and see what happened.

To say that Christine was surprised at Spock's about-face would be to damn with faint praise, but she told herself not to question where it came from or what had prompted it, even though she strongly suspected that the Captain had had something to do with it--just enjoy it while it lasted, especially since she was convinced that it wouldn't be anywhere near permanent, especially not given Spock's past actions (or lack thereof) toward her.

The first thing he did for her was take her to dinner and order her favorite meal, then play his Vulcan harp for her afterward…and best of all, seemed unaware that anyone else was in the room with them, acting as though she were the only person of consequence to him. If only that could have been true, if only she hadn't known better—but most of all, if only he could have been more like Jim! It would have been so much easier to believe in him.

She brought herself up short at that thought. When had she started to think of the Captain by his first name, but most importantly, when had she started comparing Spock to him rather than vice versa? Was she actually beginning to fall in love with Kirk? It would certainly be easy enough; he was very attractive physically, not to mention charming, charismatic and outgoing. Best of all, he knew how to make a woman feel like a woman.

It would be very hard to resist that formidable a combination for long, although she had managed to do so—at least up to this point. But now it seemed she no longer wanted to. Most unusual, especially given the fact that he'd hardly touched her; in fact, hadn't even kissed her, at least not in the regular way… just her hands.

It had to be more than simply looks, charm and charisma that was making her feel like this, especially in the presence of the one man whom up to this moment she had loved as she had loved no one else in the Galaxy, including her one-time fiancé, Roger Korby. After all, other women had been able to walk away from Kirk; she should be able to as well, particularly considering who the alternative was. Oh well, she couldn't be wasting her time with such unproductive thoughts; instead, she should be making the most of her time with Spock. As it was, he had noticed the faraway look in her eyes almost immediately and asked her if anything was wrong.

"No, Spock, I'm fine. Just thinking of other, similar experiences I've had," she told him.

The Vulcan raised a skeptical eyebrow, then frowned and resumed playing his harp. Even at that, he suspected that far more was on her mind than she had admitted to him and made a mental note to do all he could to see to it that in future, she would be too occupied with him to think about anyone—or anything—else.

He kept that vow, too…better than even he had ever thought possible, much less Christine or anyone else aboard ship. If she hadn't spent time with Roger or Kirk, known what it was like to have a man treat a woman with true tenderness and consideration, it would have worked, because the Vulcan had begun employing his own brand of charm and charisma in order to win her back.

Had he truly been sincere, she of all people could never have resisted him, could never have resisted that velvety baritone voice, those brown velvet eyes with thick dark lashes and upswept brows, those beautiful elfin ears and that _fantastic_ body. That, in conjunction with his unique charm and charisma, had captivated more than one woman, and if he had been doing it for the right reasons, she would never have decided against him. But most of all, she loved those beautiful lips which she knew were warm and sweet as a result of the forced kiss between them on Platonius.

But she knew what sincere regard and consideration were, thanks to Roger and Kirk, although she had to give Spock full marks for trying, doing everything he could to convince her that he did care for her after all. Because she still loved him, she told herself it would be only fair to give him a month to prove one way or the other how he truly regarded her…then make her final decision between them.

Over the next several weeks, Spock literally pulled out all the stops to win Christine back—even she had to admit that. She had never seen him so determined to succeed at something as at this…and under different circumstances, he would have succeeded brilliantly. He even turned down several opportunities to spend time with Kirk. That could not have been easy for him to do, Christine knew that well—and despite his masterful attempts to conceal exactly how difficult, she knew the signs to look for and was undeceived.

Even at that, she had never had so much attention from him and vowed to enjoy every moment of her time with him…as much as she possibly could, that is. But she found that the more time she spent with Spock, the more she missed Kirk—and could only conceal it for a short time, particularly from a telepath. It was during their latest dinner date that he asked point-blank what was wrong with her, why she was looking and acting as she was.

"Why do you look so sad and…faraway, Christine? Are you not enjoying my company?"

"Of course I am, Spock. How could I not? I'm just not used to seeing you so often, I guess."

He had to admit that at least that much was true, but couldn't help suspecting that there was something she wasn't telling him, something she was keeping from him because she didn't want to hurt him. "I understand," he returned quietly. "Even at that, you seem to be—preoccupied with something."

"There are several experiments I'm engaged in that are at a crucial stage of development, that's all," she told him. "I'm not sure which way I should go with them…but I _do_ know that if I don't proceed just right, I could waste hours upon hours of work."

"If you like, I would be willing to assist you," Spock generously offered.

"You don't have to," she returned with a brilliant smile, which affected him far more than he was willing to admit—at least at this point in time.

"I want to," he found himself saying. "If only to spend more time with you."

"I appreciate it, Spock, I truly do, but it's really not necessary. I'm sure I'll eventually figure out the right way to go with my experiments…which will give you the opportunity to do other things you like to do."

"Such as?" he prompted, giving her a skeptical look. "If I did not know better, I would say that you are, as Humans say, 'trying to get rid of' me."

"No, of course not. Don't be silly," she emphatically denied--a little _too_ quickly and emphatically for his taste. "As far as other pursuits go, you could pursue your own research, play your harp, or maybe even spend time with the Captain."

"Would it be so…wrong, as you put it, to spend time with you instead?" He took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes.

Under ordinary circumstances, the warmth and gentle strength of Spock's hands and the uncharacteristically tender regard she saw in the velvety brown softness of his beautiful eyes (and particularly the smile on his perfectly formed lips) would have made her forget everything and everyone else in the galaxy, much less aboard ship. But now all she could think of was the true tenderness and high regard for her in the hazel eyes and smile of James Kirk and the gentle strength and warmth of _his_ hands.

She had no idea that it was possible for her to feel as she did or miss Jim so much—but it seemed the more time she spent with Spock, the more she did just that. Frankly she had never thought it possible that anyone could prompt such a rapid and drastic change of heart on her part from the Vulcan to the Captain…but Kirk had done it—and as Christine now had to admit, he was probably the only one who _could_ have done it.

But even though Christine was no longer in love with Spock, she _did_ still love him as a friend and wished him only the best of everything, just as she loved Uhura and McCoy—but Jim, as she had recently realized, was her heart, a part of her as not even Spock or Roger had ever been…but how could she let Spock down easily? Christine had never dreamed that she would ever come to be in such a situation, but here she was, right in the middle of it.

She didn't _want_ to reject him, because the moment for which she had waited so many years was at hand…but she couldn't lie to Spock or lead him to expect something she could no longer give. At least not for longer than a few weeks—and she disliked doing it for that long, but considering what he had put her through up to this point, she intended to get all she could out of him first…then let him down as easily as possible, as was her way.

"No, it's not wrong for you to want to spend time with me. It's just that you've never wanted to before," she said as gently as possible.

"I know," he admitted, raising her hands to his lips and kissing them. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am for keeping you at a distance for so long. But I can give you my word as a Vulcan that I will never do so again."

Christine's heart pounded in spite of herself at the touch of his lips on her skin. _Oh Spock, why could you not have done this even a month ago?_ she lamented, tears of regret for what she would have to do, for how she would have to hurt him, filling her eyes and prompting her to close them so Spock would be less likely to see them. _It would have been everything I could ever have asked for. Now all I can think of is how much I wish that Jim were in your place!_

"Why are you crying?" he noticed, his sharp eyes having noticed the tears in her own in spite of her efforts, releasing one of her hands to place one of his own on her cheek. "Is it something I have done—or not done?"

"No, Spock," she managed softly, reaching up to cover his hand with hers. "This moment is everything I could ever have wished for."

A short time later Kirk approached them with McCoy and Uhura. "Well, look at the lovebirds," the Doctor gently teased, prompting a blush from both participants of said touching contact.

"Bones, don't tease them," Kirk admonished. "I'm sure they would rather be alone. In which case, we had best go get dinner and allow our favorite couple their privacy." His eyes met Christine's briefly and they exchanged an equally brief smile, but it affected her as she had never dreamed she could ever be affected—not even Spock had been able to prompt such feelings in her as Jim's smile did.

She also detected pain in his eyes at seeing her with Spock when he wanted so much to be with her himself, but knew he was the kind of person who would sacrifice his own happiness rather than see someone he cared about unhappy. She tried to convey her regret for causing him pain but could only hope he had perceived it, since there was no time for him to react to it before he turned on his heel and headed away to find a booth to share with the Doctor and Communications Officer.

"Aw, Jim-boy, you have a talent for spoiling my fun," McCoy groused as they moved off. "See you later, lovebirds," he called over his shoulder, then turned his back to them and the three disappeared from sight.

"Sorry, Spock. Leonard was in rare form today," she apologized, turning back to him once Kirk was out of sight.

"It is all right, Christine. I have come to expect it," he gently dismissed, amazed to find out how easy it was to be gentle and tender with her, especially when they were alone and he could allow himself to do so. He was beginning to find it difficult to believe that he could ever have been cold and distant to her—and frankly doubted he could ever do it again after this, at least not easily.

Christine, unfortunately, had a far longer memory than he did, and would not soon forget his treatment of her. It would take a lot longer than a month for _that _to happen, if it ever did. Whether he had meant to do it or not, it had been done, and she had the scars on her heart to prove it—scars which would take a long time to heal. They would not heal in a month, a year, or even five years. It would take at least that much time for even Jim to begin to help her, but if anyone could, it would be him.

Upon finishing their meal, the couple made their way to the nearest viewport and gazed out at the seemingly diamond-studded blackness and warp field surrounding them. Christine was pleasantly surprised when Spock's arm tentatively slid around her waist, then drew her close and he whispered to her that it would be all right for her to rest her head on his shoulder if she wished.

To please him, she did just that, pretending that it was Jim's arm around her and her head on his shoulder. The pair stood like that for an interminable time, then the Vulcan released his companion and turned her to face him, raising her face to his with one hand. She could just barely make him out in the starlight but had a pretty good idea what he had in mind, since his dark eyes literally seemed to glow as he gazed upon her.

"Christine…" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"I would like very much to kiss you. May I do so?"

Another moment she had never imagined would ever come…and when it did, all she could think about was how much she wished it could be Jim doing it! What was wrong with her that she would act like this with Spock so close to her? When she did not refuse him, the Vulcan took that as assent and bent his head down, his lips soon finding hers in a warm, lingering and tenderly passionate kiss…then he gently but firmly drew her close against him while continuing to kiss her.

She slid her arms around him and held him, surprised when he reluctantly moved his lips to nuzzle her throat, then turned her around so that her back was to him and moved her hair aside to plant a warm kiss on the nape of her neck even as he slid his arms around her from behind. She shivered and moaned; that had always been a sensitive spot for her. "Oooh, that makes me crazy," she murmured softly, but his keen ears picked it up easily.

"Then I am correct in assuming that you…enjoy that," he whispered back, once again nuzzling her neck as his embrace gently tightened.

"That makes me crazy, too," she informed him.

"I am pleased to hear that," he replied, lips brushing her right ear as he said it and the warmth of his breath softly blowing into it. "By the way, when do you have to be on-shift?"

"Fairly early, I'm afraid," she confessed with an apologetic note in her voice, although that wasn't completely true. She had to be on duty at 0600, but it was only about 2100 now, so even if she didn't get back to her quarters until 2300, she could still get enough sleep to get through her next shift. The problem was, she didn't really want to, but couldn't let him know that.

"Unfortunate," he murmured in a disappointed tone. "Very well, I will return you to your quarters." He turned her around to face the door, one arm still around her, and they headed for the door, their pace slow—and on his part, at least—uncharacteristically reluctant. Spock kept an arm around her even as they left the Officers' Lounge and headed for the nearest turbolift which would take them to Deck Five, the deck which held all the senior officers' quarters, including that of the Head Nurse.

Once they reached the door, Spock turned her to face him again. "May I see you again?"

"You need to ask?" she returned with a soft, traitorous smile.

"Will you let me know when you are available again?" he gently persisted, once again lifting her face to his, intending to kiss her good night.

"Of course," she assured him, then he allowed himself a smile at her before another lingering kiss.

"I will see you then. Good night, Christine." With that, he reluctantly released her and turned to head down the corridor to his own quarters.

"Good night, Spock." She stepped to her quarters door and softly spoke the code for opening the door, stepping through and away from the door enough so that it closed behind her. She showered and changed into her nightgown, mentally reliving her evening once in bed with her favorite music and novel—but with a different companion. She had to give him credit; he was literally pulling out all the stops, going all out to win her over again—and if it hadn't been for Jim, it would have worked. As it was, it was too little, too late. However, there were still two weeks to go of the designated month, so she vowed to put on her best possible face for the duration.

She was just about asleep when she heard her door buzzer sounding. She reluctantly got up, shrugged into her robe and tied it around her even while sliding into her slippers. "Come," she called even as she headed for the door, hoping against hope it would either be Nyota, Leonard, or best of all…Jim. To her surprise and delight, her greatest hope came true.

"Captain…Jim…what are you doing here at this hour?" She fought to keep her tone friendly but professional—yet from the look on Kirk's face, she knew she hadn't succeeded.

"Christine, I had to see you," he informed her. His eyes looked her up and down, and she was sure he was mentally undressing her, if his look was any indication. "I couldn't stay away any longer."

"Well, I've been pretty busy," she apologized. "Spock's been monopolizing me like you wouldn't believe. In fact, I can scarcely believe it myself! I've spent more time with him in the last two weeks than I have in the last three years combined."

"I know," he returned quietly. _Oh God, how well I know,_ he thought, both his heart and body aching as he gazed upon her. She was so lovely and desirable; how could any man with an ounce of hormones ever resist her? _He_ certainly couldn't! He had regretted agreeing to give Spock his chance with her almost as soon as he had made it, but had to keep his word now…although it had been the hardest thing he would ever do.

And this night had been the hardest of all; to have seen her holding hands with Spock and gazing lovingly into his eyes was almost more than he could stand. He had wanted so much for it to be him that he could almost literally taste it!

"You may not believe this, but I wanted you there instead," she softly confessed, hardly believing she was actually saying it, but knowing it was true even as she did so.

"Really? You could have fooled me," he returned softly, with a skeptical air. "You seemed to have eyes only for Spock." Even so, his relief at her confession was almost tangible. "Christine, I've missed you."

"Just as I've missed you," she assured him—which prompted him to throw all caution to the winds and move across the room to gather her into his arms and kiss her passionately. To not only his surprise but her own, Christine found herself returning his kiss with equal passion—and that was when she knew her affections had been totally and completely transferred from the First Officer to the Captain.

"I wish I could stay with you," he confessed after releasing her. "But I have to give Spock his chance, the complete month to win you over again."

"He's already lost," she replied, her head still spinning and her lips still throbbing pleasantly. It had always been said that James Kirk was a marvelous kisser, and now she knew it wasn't just a rumor. Unfortunately, so was Spock! "But I can't tell him that yet."

"Try to let him down easily, okay? He is still my friend, and I don't want him ruined for life over an unsuccessful courtship," Kirk softly admonished.

"Oh, don't worry, I intend to," she assured him. "I'm not going to be another T'Pring." She laughed wryly. "But despite what he's been doing, I don't think my rejection will hurt that much…not as long as he still has you to fall back on."

"I wonder," Kirk mused, hoping she hadn't heard him, and since she didn't reply to his statement, he assumed she hadn't and acted accordingly. He had never seen such a look in his friend's eyes as he had when Spock had been holding Christine's hands and looking deeply into her eyes. If he was reading that look correctly, it would come not only as a surprise but a deep hurt and prompt a great sense of loss as well as self-hatred—but one he had (albeit unintentionally) brought on himself by his own actions…or lack thereof.

"Well, I'd better let you get to bed now," Kirk told her as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then headed for the door. "But I had to see you and tell you how I felt. Do you intend to see Spock again any time soon?"

"I said I would, but didn't give him any definite time," she informed him.

"Then maybe _we_ can see each other again," he returned hopefully.

"I hope so," she returned fervently.

"Good night, Christine. I love you." He turned back to her once at the door, his eyes conveying his sincerity even as he said the three magic words a woman always longs to hear from a man.

"And I love you, Jim. Good night."

With that, he stepped to the door; it opened and he took another step, then disappeared.

Christine got back into bed after slipping her robe and slippers off, her dreams this night even more tantalizing than before and arousing her more than she dreamed possible—but could only hope that Jim was feeling the same way. After this, how would she ever be able to hide her feelings for Jim from Spock?

Since they worked together every day, it was McCoy to whom she first confessed her change of heart. Up to the point he had confronted her, she had assumed that she had successfully concealed her feelings for Kirk from him but had both underestimated McCoy's determination to find out the truth about them and his knowledge of both herself and the Captain when each was in love.

She was sitting at her station, ostensibly working, but McCoy had been observing her for the past hour and noted that she had neither moved or spoken in that entire time. What's more, she had had a look on her face he had always associated with daydreaming about Spock up until now and humming her favorite love song under her breath. He decided to find out once and for all just what the situation was between her and Jim, whether there was a genuine attraction between them or if they were simply doing it to gently prod Spock into taking some action regarding her.

It was several minutes before she noticed his presence, seeming to be lost in a world of her own, literally oblivious to all going on around her—and he did mean _all_. No matter how quiet he tried to be, she usually heard him approach her, but this time she'd made no reaction whatsoever. Just the same, he decided it was best to wait until she noticed him so he could say that he had been observing her and why she'd been acting as she had after describing her actions in order to make sure she would be unable to cover up or change the subject.

He was all ready to touch her shoulder to bring her back to reality when she stretched in her chair to get the kinks out of her back and caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, Leonard. Didn't see you at first. How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," he replied, his tone prompting her to narrow her eyes suspiciously.

"Is something wrong?" she wondered, with a part of her wondering if he had caught her daydreaming about Jim and hoping she could once again cover up her feelings for him or at least make him think she was daydreaming about Spock instead.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just curious about something, that's all," the CMO returned neutrally.

"Such as?" she prompted, once again noting his skeptical tone.

"You've not done a lick of work for the past hour. Instead, you've just sat here at your station with a silly look on your face and humming a love song," he replied point-blank.

Christine scowled at him. "Is there something wrong with that? It isn't as though there's a deadline on this list I'm doing, you know. You said to take as long as I needed, and know as well as I do how long it takes to go through the entire crew roster to discover who needs inoculations. And whether you remember the fact or not, I _am_ in love. Doing what I've done is natural when one feels as I do, but I assure you that I have every intention of completing my assignment."

"I know," he remarked apologetically. "I never meant to imply otherwise." _But who are you daydreaming about?_ he added silently, respecting her for not trying to deny what she had done but unsure of whether or not she would admit exactly who she had been thinking about. Had it been Spock, as it usually was, or had Jim managed to win her away from him? "I was simply wondering who were thinking about."

Considering the way Spock usually treated her, it would serve him right and make him realize how wrong he had been to push her away all this time if he had to watch or hear her rhapsodize about the Captain when it had always been himself before. He had heard about all the dates, all the time the Vulcan had been spending with her; in fact there was still about a week left of the designated month.

He had never known Spock to be this single-minded about anything, and that was saying something. He had even turned down several chances to spend time with Jim, and up to this point he had turned down everything and everyone else in order to spend time with Jim, up to (and including) Christine. He couldn't imagine what would prompt Spock to act like this, since his Time was still several years away—and even if it weren't, why go after Christine in particular?

Not simply because she loved him; at least half the women in the crew reportedly did…and some were more attractive than Christine, if only physically, so it wasn't necessary for Spock to act as he was, and yet he was. Could the rumors actually be true? Could Jim actually be in love with her, yet in fairness to Spock, have given him first crack at her because it was what he believed Christine wanted, however much he disliked the idea?

It would certainly be in character for Jim, although it seemed unlikely, although stranger things had happened, so it was certainly possible, if not plausible…particularly considering the way Jim had acted at Spock's concert with Christine. The look on his face had been similar to that he had worn during his other romances, and yet there was also an indefinable something there that set it apart from the rest, as if his feelings for Christine were somehow deeper and more enduring, not simply a temporary infatuation.

If Christine had been thinking about Jim rather than Spock, if Jim had managed to win her away from the Vulcan, he didn't envy either of them when the time came to break the news to him. Spock had always claimed that he had no ego to bruise, of course, although both he and Jim knew better than that…but even though Spock knew what it was like to be rejected by a woman, it was more of an "ego hurt" than a "heart hurt" since he hadn't wanted her any more than she had wanted him.

In this case, however, it might hit him all the harder because he knew Christine had feelings for him (this was assuming she still did, of course)--and then to lose her to his best friend… If that turned out to be the case, it might prove to be a more lasting hurt—and not only an "ego hurt" but a "heart hurt", along with a healthy dose of self-hatred for his having treated her so shabbily up to this point.

"Do you really think that's any of your business?" she tried to stall, even though she had never been able to fool McCoy for long, particularly regarding her feelings for a given man—usually Spock, but not any more. At least not after this point in time, anyway. But whatever else Christine was, she did not generally lead a man to expect something of her she could no longer give.

Of course, he wouldn't blame her if she did this time, at least for a little while—after what Spock had put her through, she was entitled to all she could get off him. On the other hand, no one liked being used, then discarded…but McCoy knew that Christine would let him down as easily as possible, because that was her nature. But sometimes even the gentlest attempt could hit someone like the proverbial ton of bricks, particularly if it was bad news which directly affected them. But even if he deserved it, which he surely did, Spock was still his friend and he didn't like to see him hurt in any way.

"Of course it's my business," McCoy countered, injecting just enough hurt to sound properly offended. "I care about you, Chris, and besides, you should know me well enough by now to know that I would never spread your secrets around—or anyone else's, for that matter."

There was silence for a time, then Christine sighed and sat back in her chair. "Your word of honor? I don't want this spread around any more than it has to be."

"Word of honor," McCoy assured her. "It won't leave this room."

Christine gave him a dubious look, but began to speak. "Leonard, I'm in love and don't know what to do."

"Spock?" he asked tentatively.

"No," she confessed. "The Captain."

There was a stunned silence for a moment, then he said, "I see. Does he know?"

"The Captain or Spock?" she wondered.

"Both."

"The Captain knows," she told him.

"What about Spock?"

"I'm giving him until the end of the month. I'll think of a way to tell him then."

"Any chance of his changing your mind again between now and then?"

"No," Christine returned softly but emphatically.

"Sounds pretty definite," McCoy observed, standing up and stretching after moving from his position on the corner of her desk.

"It is. I want a man who is consistent in his feelings, not one who blows hot and cold at the drop of a hat, constantly giving me mixed signals and making me wonder just where I stand with him from one day to the next."

"I can certainly understand that," McCoy concurred. "But have you considered the possibility that Spock may be in love with you?"

Christine laughed bitterly. "Most unlikely, even if the Captain wasn't around…and he is. And even if by some strange quirk of fate, he actually gives a damn about me after all this time, I would find it very difficult to believe that he would hurt very much or very long, particularly with so many others to fall back on."

"In that case, I can't say it's not poetic justice, after the way he's treated you," McCoy remarked. "I only ask that you let him down as gently as possible."

"Don't worry, I will. I do still care about him, even if I'm not in love with him any more," she assured him. "Now may I get back to work?"

"Sure." McCoy turned toward the nearby door. "How about dinner later?"

"I'd love to. See you then." She smiled and nodded in his direction, then turned back to her work, her heart considerably lighter now that she had confessed her feelings to someone besides Jim. The best she could hope for now was that Spock wouldn't find out before the last week of the month ended; she wanted to tell him herself because she knew how to let him down easily.

Most anyone else would hit him with it point blank, including Leonard and Nyota. Which reminded her, it was time to let her closest female friend know of her change of heart, discussing with her any and all options she had as to telling Spock that she now understood why he had treated her as he had and didn't blame him any more. Nor would she ever forget their time together, but her heart lay elsewhere...and that even if he did indeed love her now, she hoped he would be unselfish enough to wish her well with her new love and not stand in her way, just as he would expect her to do if the situation had been reversed.

As it turned out, Uhura found her first—and even given her love and respect for McCoy and his opinions, in this situation Christine found that she needed the input of another woman around her own age, and only Nyota could give her that. Spock had asked her to dinner again, but she had had to beg off. "Just this once," she assured him. "I promised Nyota I would have dinner with her tonight. Maybe you could do the same with the Captain," she suggested.

Spock believed he had managed to conceal his disappointment at her refusal, but even at that, was inwardly grateful for the chance to finally spend some time with Jim again. "I believe I will," he finally replied after a long silence. "Thank you for your suggestion."

Christine waved it off. "It's only fair. After all, you haven't seen him other than your duty shifts for some time."

As much as the Vulcan wanted to, he found he couldn't argue with that. "Then I will contact Jim and make the arrangements. But you must also let me know when you are available again."

"Of course," she promised. "I must go prepare for my evening with her now." She was frankly hoping that she would be able to escape Sickbay by herself and be alone to gather her thoughts for the upcoming talk with Uhura, but no such luck.

"May I at least walk you to your quarters?" Spock asked, and despite her reluctance to do so, Christine knew it was only fair to grant him that much…but even at that, knew she couldn't put him off for long without making him suspicious. Whatever else the man was, he wasn't stupid, and however much she now loved Jim, Spock was still very dear to her and always would be.

She didn't want to hurt him any more than absolutely necessary; in addition, there were only a few days left of the designated month. She would have to start thinking about how to let Spock down as easily as possible; that was a large part of the reason she needed to speak privately with Nyota.  
"I suppose so, but once we get there, I really need to get busy since I told her to come at 1830 hours and it's almost 1800 now." She did her utmost not to sound overanxious or impatient.

"I understand. I will not detain you unnecessarily. Let us go now." He moved his arm so that she could take it if she so wished. Christine did so after rising to her feet from her desk chair and they were off.

Within the next quarter-hour, the pair had reached her door and despite the fact that time was passing, Spock found himself reluctant to leave her, even at the prospect of seeing Jim again. It took Christine's polite but tinged-with-impatience voice to bring him back to reality.

"Spock…?"

Her voice sounded like it was coming from a distance even as he replied. "I am sorry, Christine. I became—preoccupied."

"Not at all," she magnanimously dismissed. "Nyota will understand if I'm a little late."

"All the same, I did not mean to detain you," he apologized, reaching for her hand before raising it to his lips to kiss it.

"No problem," she smiled. "You'd better get going now and find the Captain before he gets busy doing something else." She punched in her door code and stepped through, his last glimpse of her just before it swished closed between them being her brilliant blue eyes and even more brilliant smile.

He might have been more concerned had he known that it was one of the last times he would ever see it…at least on a personal level…but at the time he had little reason not to believe that he and Christine were beginning not only a long-term romantic relationship, but an eventual bonding and marriage.

Unfortunately, in only a matter of days he would be proved wrong—so wrong that even the short-term effects of said misconception would prove every bit as devastating as the long-term effects…and what's worse, the main reason for that would be his knowledge that he himself was responsible for having pushed her away, shunted her aside, rejected the love she had offered him just once too often.

He had never consciously meant to alienate her but simply protect himself emotionally, but said protection had nonetheless backfired disastrously—the extent to which he had taken it effectively destroying the love she had once had for him and ultimately driving her into Jim's arms: something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. A long (and in the end, very lonely) life…loneliness which would be compounded by the knowledge that he had brought it on himself.

Meanwhile, of course, it was time for the two ladies to have their own private talk. They had decided to get their dinner from the Officers' Mess and take it to Uhura's quarters in order to ensure that no one could inadvertently overhear their "girl talk", particularly certain persons of the male persuasion who would end up as the subjects of said talk.

It took only a matter of minutes before the stage was set: the food and drink was set on the table in Uhura's living area before the ladies, who were sitting across from one another with their favorite music playing—the greatest love songs from the last four centuries. In fact, that was the name of the 10-disc set: "Greatest Love Songs from 1900-2200."

The particular disc playing at the moment had a song on it from the late 20th century by a singer named John Denver called, "Got My Heart Set on You." In spite of its age, Christine couldn't help feeling the song's lyrics in a big way; it was almost as if she had written the words herself. Particularly the lines, "And though I've heard your love is taken, I gotta believe what's in your eyes…would I be out of line if I suggested a time and we got together one of these nights…"

In fact, it wouldn't surprise her if Jim identified with the song too, if not liked those very same lines. But it was only when the song played again and Uhura heard those lines herself that she happened to look up from her food and notice the tender look both in her friend's eyes and on her face: so much so, in fact, that the Communications Officer was reluctant to erase that look by speaking to her.

Uhura had never seen that look on Christine's face before, not even at the height of her infatuation with Spock. It was mainly for that reason that Uhura knew that it was not Spock who was causing said tenderness. She also noticed another thing the ACMO was not doing—which was eating. For that matter, she had not eaten for so long that the food had congealed into a cold, inedible mess. It was then that the Bantu woman knew that Christine's feelings for Kirk weren't simply rebound but deep and genuine.

It was something she had never thought she would see in a million years from either one of them, particularly Christine, mainly because of the woman's tenacity in the face of virtually every conceivable form of emotional abuse at Spock's hands. However, it also now seemed that Spock had finally pushed her too far: right into the arms of his best friend.

There was only one problem that Uhura could see right now: how were they going to break the news to Spock? She had also seen the look on Spock's face when she, Kirk and McCoy had come upon Spock and Chris some nights ago. It was most uncharacteristic of the always stoic Vulcan, but nonetheless strongly reminiscent of the look which was on _her_ best friend's face right now.

She couldn't help wondering what Christine intended to do (or say, for that matter) now that the designated month was nearly up. It was obvious that Spock had developed deep feelings for Christine (albeit far too late) and would be devastated at her ultimate rejection, even if no one ever saw it—and barring a miracle, it was unlikely that he would ever marry (at least not for love) because of said rejection.

But neither could she blame Christine if she didn't believe anything Spock said as far as love was concerned. She had endured so many years of emotional abuse at his hands that she was unlikely to believe that he could make such a drastic turnaround in such a short time. Four weeks was hardly long enough to negate all the years the Vulcan had kept her at both a physical and emotional distance, neglecting her in favor of Kirk. It may have been unkind, but unfortunately it was likely to prove to be poetic justice when Spock found himself rejected by the one woman he had never imagined would be capable of doing so.

It wasn't until the song "Don't Close Your Eyes Tonight", yet another selection from the late 20th century, began to play that Uhura reluctantly decided to bring her thoroughly infatuated friend back to reality. She reached over and gently touched her hand.

"Chris?...Chris?... Earth to Christine. Come in, Christine!"

Christine visibly jumped at the contact; by her reaction, Uhura could have sworn that she had literally been in a world of her own and very much regretted returning to the real one where a real-life 'no-win scenario' awaited her. "Huh? What? Oh, Ny. Sorry. I got lost in thought."  
_  
Tell me about it!_ Uhura thought, but said out loud, "Sorry to bother you, Chris, but I thought you said you wanted to talk. And by the way, your food is cold."

"It's really been that long?"

Uhura nodded.

"Lord, I must really have it bad. I don't remember ever doing that, not even at the height of my infatuation with Spock," the other woman remarked. "However, I think you must have guessed by now that my feelings are not for him…not any longer."

"I kind of surmised that," Uhura returned dryly. "When do you intend to break it to Spock? There's only three days left of the month, you know."

"I know, and it's not something I'm looking forward to," Christine observed. "It's also not something I thought I'd ever be doing, nor did I ever dream that I would ever have a change of heart—and what's more, so drastic a change—in only a month."

"I'll help you all I can, Chris, but you've got to tell him soon. You can't lead him on much longer."

"How well I know," the other woman sighed. "But it's not going to be easy. I may not be in love with Spock anymore, but he is still quite special to me as a friend and colleague. I wish to God that I didn't have to hurt him, but I don't see that I have any choice in the matter."

"It's the no-win scenario to end all no-win scenarios," Uhura opined just before finishing her own meal. "And unfortunately, unavoidable."

"Who could ever have imagined that I would ever be in this situation?" Christine lamented. "Certainly not me. I always thought Hell would freeze over before I would ever reject Spock."

By this time, "Don't Close Your Eyes Tonight" was playing again and Uhura was unable to help commenting, "I bet all three of you could identify with the song that's playing right now, albeit in your own individual ways."

After listening for a moment, Christine had to agree. "The chorus is my favorite part." With that, she softly sang:

"Don't close your eyes tonight;  
Just look at me and see how many times I cried for you…  
Don't close your eyes tonight;  
Let it be me, not just a fantasy—  
Let it be me tonight…"

"I can't tell you how many times that's happened to me," Christine recalled upon finishing the chorus. "In fact, I lost count long ago." The ACMO sighed dubiously and took a deep swig of her drink. "Ny, it's preposterous, insane—I have the one thing I've waited for and dreamed of for umpteen years, but all I want to do now is chuck it all and Spock along with it."

"It's all in the timing, I guess," Uhura opined. "Not to mention the old saying, 'Be careful what you wish for; you may get it'."

"Spock's couldn't have been worse, unfortunately," Christine returned regretfully. "If he'd only wised up even a month ago, things might have been very different for us. As it is, I'm convinced that no matter how gently it's put to him, he's going to be devastated…or at least I'd prefer to think so, after the way he's been after me."

"Where is he, by the way?" Uhura wondered. "He's hardly let you out of his sight for the past month, and now he's nowhere around."

"I sent him off to spend time with the Captain." Christine laughed wryly. "Isn't that rich? For so long I'd have done almost literally anything to prevent that, but today I actually encouraged him to do it, if only so you and I could talk!"

"Do you think you'll be able to break the news to him alone or would you prefer us to be nearby, at least, in case either of you needs moral or emotional support?"

"That might be a good idea," Christine agreed. "But you should probably be discreet as possible about it so Spock doesn't realize you guys are there right away. Come to think of it, it wouldn't surprise me if they're also having a private talk somewhere…"

"Me either," Uhura concurred. "And if I know the Captain, it's in Spock's quarters in order that he feel as comfortable as possible. As far as that goes, do you think the Captain is going to try to tell him about you two himself or let you do it?"

"That would be nice, if somewhat cowardly of me," Christine opined. "If that was the case, I should be with him…then you and Dr. McCoy nearby, if only to help Spock." She shook her head hopelessly. "Damn! I hate situations like this where you have to hurt someone you care about!"

"I know, but unfortunately it's got to be done sooner or later, and being the bearer of bad news is never easy," Uhura replied.

"That's the understatement of the century," Christine declared. "I might as well do it now rather than later, though. It's not going to get any easier waiting. You coming with me?" She pushed her chair back and stood up, turning toward the door a short distance away, leaving her half-eaten and now-cold food for the part-time wait staff to clear away in the morning.

"You know it," Uhura assured her, copying her friend's actions. "We just have to find out where the guys are, that's all." With that, she asked, "Computer, give me the location of Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock."

"They are in Captain Kirk's quarters," the computer's mechanical yet pleasant feminine voice informed them.

"Well, I was close," Uhura remarked, taking her friend's arm, ready to pull her along if necessary. "Let's go, Chris." To the Communications Officer's surprise, Christine went along without a word of protest, and the women were soon out the door of the Officers' Lounge and headed for the nearest turbolift which would take them to Deck 5 and Officers' Country…and whatever future any of the individuals involved could reasonably expect awaited them at their destination.

It was hard to say just who was the most surprised at the girls showing up at the door, but to Kirk what mattered was that Christine was here…and best of all, with Uhura as support. He wished that Bones could have been here too, but the Doctor was on duty at the moment and wouldn't be off until 2400. He knew how difficult it was for Spock to show any emotion in front of McCoy, but in this case, he liked to think that Spock just might appreciate the gesture—if only for moral support, since it was unlikely he himself would be able to offer much, particularly under the present circumstances.

"What brings you ladies here at this hour?" he finally asked with false brightness.

"We have something very important to discuss," Christine replied as she stepped in, Uhura right behind her.

Kirk knew what that meant, particularly for Spock, frankly dreading the moment when he realized that he was being rejected for the second time…and not for just anyone but his best friend!

Before he could think of anything to say, however, Spock stepped up to stand beside him. "May I ask what you have come to discuss?" He met Christine's eyes with a look which was a mixture of question and entreaty.

She couldn't meet his gaze for long, knowing that what she had to say was going to hurt him—but even as much as she hated to do it, it was unavoidable. In the end, she forced a smile and said, "We'd better sit down."

"Why? Is it not good news?" he inquired.

"I'm afraid not," she quietly confessed.

"Is your news specifically for me?" he guessed, his eyes again boring into hers, willing her to tell him what this was all about.

Christine only gestured to the others to follow them after nodding her head at him.

"Is it that serious?" Spock asked again; she merely nodded again and began walking toward the sleeping alcove. Moments later all four were seated on the bed, two on one side and the other two at the foot, within touching distance in case of necessity.

"In that case, would it not be better to discuss this privately?" he persisted even as they prepared to settle in for a long haul. Christine once again shook her head, unwilling to elaborate—and even as theVulcan looked at Jim and Uhura, he knew he wasn't going to get any explanations from them either.

Spock finally resigned himself to having to wait for the answers he sought even as he fought off a persistent feeling of uneasiness. After a long, uncomfortable silence in which the tension was so thick that it could almost literally be cut, Kirk finally broke it. "Christine, you can't keep him dangling any longer. You've got to tell him the truth."

The First Officer gave his friend and Captain a strange look, but waited for the Head Nurse to speak. "I know, but…" she finally said, her voice trailing off into silence and even the Vulcan's sharp ears had difficulty hearing her.

"I'll be here to help you," Kirk assured her. "But you've still got to do it." His voice was soft but firm.

"Do what?" Spock demanded. "Will one of you please elucidate?" His voice held a touch of impatience; he had had about as much as he could take of his friends' evasiveness and speaking in riddles.

Christine finally sighed sadly and squared her slender shoulders. "Before I do, it is my hope that you will take this in the spirit it's meant. You are very special to me, you always have been and always will be, but I…have had a change of heart regarding you."

"A change of heart?" he asked quietly after an uncomfortably long silence as he was digesting this information. "In what way? Are you saying that you no longer love me?"

"Not at all," she returned. "At least not in the friendship sense. In that sense, I have always loved you and always will…but I am no longer _in_ love with you. Not romantically speaking."

"Then may I assume that you have—fallen in love with someone else?" This time his eyes seemed to read her mind and she was unable to deny it. "And may I ask who you have fallen in love with?"

She turned her head and met Kirk's eyes, willing him to send her the strength to tell Spock the truth, however unpleasant a revelation it may turn out to be. A moment later she seemed to feel just that and for that reason, was able to speak. "It is…the Captain."

"I see," he returned flatly. "May I ask when this occurred?"

"A few weeks ago," she confessed. "Shortly before we began seeing each other."

"Why did you continue to see me if you were in love with the Captain?"

Again, there was an uncomfortably long silence, then she finally said, "I…hoped that our spending time together would prompt a renewal of my former feelings for you."

"Obviously it did not," he observed. "Does this mean that you no longer wish to see me socially?"

"I think I still owe you at least one more night, if I remember correctly."

"No," he forced himself to say, suddenly unable to endure the idea of spending time with Christine while knowing all the while that she loved another—and not just anyone but his best friend. The pain inside him at her revelation had been growing geometrically ever since she'd first told him and now was all but unbearable. "I have no wish to deprive you of the chance to see the one you truly love."

"Don't you even want to know what prompted my change of heart?" she asked incredulously.

"Not at this time," he forced out.

"May we discuss it later?" she persisted. "You deserve that much, at least."

"If you wish," he finally, reluctantly conceded. He saw little point in any further discussion. It was going to be difficult enough for him to deal with without that, much less the knowledge that he had lost Christine because of his own stubborn refusal to see how rare and special she really was…and that Jim would now be the one to enjoy her touch, taste her kisses, hear her whispered words of love—and worst of all, have the right to possess her physically as well as emotionally. All the things he had once believed _he_ would possess…but now that dream was over. Permanently.

"I'm sorry, Spock," Christine finally said, reaching to touch his hand. "I never meant to hurt you—or lead you on."

It was difficult for him to look into her beautiful blue eyes and know that he would never see love for him in them again, but he couldn't ignore her statement. "I cannot blame you, Christine. You deserve someone who can freely show his emotions to you. I can wish you only peace, contentment and a long, happy life."

"Please believe me, Spock, I truly wish it could have been us…but now have to admit that after what's happened, it doesn't seem like it was meant to be."

"It would seem so," he returned enigmatically, standing up and turning for the door. "May I return to my quarters, Jim?"

"If you like, Spock," Kirk replied, his heart going out to his friend. Spock's face showed no emotion but his eyes were filled with ineffable pain at not only this second rejection, but the rejection of his overtures by someone he had come to care for deeply. He doubted he would ever be able to put this behind him, at least not totally. Even then it would likely take several years…and even if he managed to marry, it would not be for love. He was even seriously considering allowing himself to die in _pon farr_ because he doubted he could bring himself to bond with anyone. No matter how beautiful a potential bondmate might be or how much she might care for him, it could never—and _would_ never—be Christine.

"When may I see you, Spock?" Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I will contact you," he returned ambiguously. "I must go now." With that, the Vulcan took a step toward the bathroom door, which opened to admit him one moment, then closed behind him in the next.

Once back in his quarters, Spock locked his door and showered, then changed into night clothes and went to bed—a bed which would now be forever cold, forever empty, forever lonely. How painfully ironic was the thought that the love he had once scorned was now something that he would yearn for forevermore… A short while later he turned on his side and half buried his face in his pillow upon feeling an unaccustomed burning and wetness behind his eyelids, soon doing something he hadn't done since he was a child but something he would be unable to avoid doing for long after this (at least when he was alone): crying himself to sleep.

Of course, outwardly he showed no signs of emotional distress—"outwardly" being the operative word. But the ones who knew him best were not fooled…although they allowed him to think they were. Even at that, for several days following Christine's devastating revelation, Kirk noted that the Vulcan tended to avoid him except when they were on Bridge duty. If he were hurting half as much as the Captain suspected, it had to be excruciating for Spock to have to be around his heretofore best friend and now successful rival for the Head Nurse's affections eight hours a day; even to speak to him seemed to require the kind of effort he had once put into his most difficult scientific papers and complex formulas.

Kirk truly felt for his friend, but could not deny his happiness that Christine belonged to him in virtually every way—but it was only a matter of time until she was _totally_ his. He had even recently approved a transfer for Janice Rand, his Yeoman who had reportedly been in love with him. She had cited a desire to advance her career as her reason for leaving, but he suspected that she simply needed to get away from the ship and his fawning over Christine—because she was most likely hurting as much as Spock was because of this unexpected (but most welcome…at least to him) development. Why did someone always have to be hurt in situations like this—and particularly people who'd already been hurt many times before…like Spock and Janice?

Something else – a most unusual something else -- began to develop once Kirk and Christine had officially become a couple: Spock began to spend more and more time with McCoy and Uhura. The new couple were too occupied with each other most of the time for these others to have been able to get their attention for any substantial length of time, particularly off-duty, so they ended up gravitating to Spock, whom they sensed was in the same boat as themselves. If it wasn't meal-sharing, it was occasional songfests in the Officers' Lounge.

They had naturally noticed the pain in the First Officer's eyes whenever either Kirk or Christine's name was mentioned, so they refrained from mentioning them as often as possible, but there were times it couldn't be helped…and in these circumstances, they always apologized to him. So many times Uhura wished she could have taken Spock in her arms and comforted him because she sensed that he needed someone to do just that…but at those times, he seemed to be in double-Vulcan mode, seeming even more aloof and unapproachable than usual. Even so, she was determined to give it to him as soon as she could manage it.

Maybe she could go to his quarters, ostensibly to ask for help on a particularly complicated song she was attempting to learn on her Vulcan harp, then with luck, she could get him to release at least some of his pain over his unexpected rejection. In fact, she would do just that after she had gotten off duty tomorrow.

But something else happened that very night that Spock had not expected to ever happen, especially since Christine had declared her love for Jim—but at the same time, it was an experience he would treasure for as long as he lived: a night he had once thought would be only the first of many…but he now had to accept the fact that it was all they would ever have. But he looked at it like this: even if they could not have a lifetime, they would always have their few weeks together as well as this night—and that would have to sustain him throughout all the long, painfully empty nights (and years) to come.

It was 2200 hours and he was just finishing up the duty roster for his Science Department when he heard his buzzer sound. He called out, "Just a moment," told his computer to post it to all the computers belonging to his Science people before shutting down, then got up to greet his unexpected caller. He was stunned speechless for a moment upon noting Christine standing outside the door. "This is….most unexpected, I must say," he observed upon ushering her inside.

"I know, but since you couldn't seem to bring yourself to contact me for our promised talk, I thought I'd come and see if you would be willing to talk now," she explained.

"What point is there to talking now?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. "You have made up your mind."

"That doesn't mean I've stopped caring about you," she countered. "I never have and never will. I'm truly sorry that I had to hurt you, but I figured it would have hurt you even more if I hadn't done it when I did."

He had to concede that she was probably right, at least about that much—but it didn't make him hurt any less to know that he would never have the chance to hold, kiss or make love to her after this…that those pleasures would be reserved for Jim—and _only_ him.

"Does Jim know you are here?" he could not help asking.

"Of course; we agreed that I should do this," Christine replied.

"What did you agree on? That you would give me one night with you as a 'consolation prize' before devoting yourself to him?" He tried to keep pain and anger out of his voice, but was unable to do so entirely…and it was not lost on Christine.

"That was only part of it," she insisted. "We figured it was the least you deserved for your valiant effort to win me back."

He could not deny that he wanted her even now, but didn't think he could stand to make love to her and know he would never be able to do it again. To have a 'mercy dive' like this would be worse than never having had it at all. At the same time, her rose-musk perfume was going to his head—not to mention her filmy floral dress, which both revealed and concealed her curves, particularly the cleavage which peeked through the deep V-neck, accenting the fullness of her breasts; her moist red lips and the 'come-hither' look in her smoky blue eyes…and finally, the cornsilk of her hair falling around her face, neck and shoulders.

"Your offer…is most generous, Christine, but I—cannot accept," he forced out.

"Why not? You can't say you don't want me…not any more," she threw back.

"You belong to Jim now—and I do not pursue women who are spoken for. It is as simple as that."

"One night with you isn't going to change my feelings for the Captain…Jim…one whit, if that's what you're concerned about," she assured him. "So why not yield to the logic of my words and take the one night I'm offering you? If nothing else, it'll be something to relive during those nights when you're alone and have nothing else to occupy your mind."

With that, she moved closer and reached to stroke the back of his neck; he gave an involuntary shiver. "Don't deny me—or yourself—any longer, Spock. I need you," she entreated, standing on her tiptoes to brush his lips with the warm silk of her own. And not just once, either. He admonished himself not to react or respond to her, but that was impossible, like trying to hold back a flood with one's bare hands… A moment later he found himself pulling her close and kissing her passionately even as she moved sensuously against him.

"Love me, Spock…love me with everything you have. Give _me_ something to remember and relive when I'm alone," she crooned against his lips even as one of his hands moved to unzip her dress and slide it off to reveal her nude beauty to his hungry eyes. Somehow it did not surprise him that she had done such a thing and he could not help but wonder if she did the same with Jim…then all at once he was overwhelmed by her perfume, her womanly scent, just _her_, period. This was when he literally swept her off her feet and carried her to his bed—the only night it wouldn't be cold and empty. After he had laid her down, then drew her close, his lips and hands moving greedily over her silken skin, he was unable to get enough of her delicious body.

Throughout the night the lovers feasted on each other, their joinings at one point passionate and at another, heartbreakingly tender—all in all, a night neither would ever forget. It was nearly morning before Christine could bring herself to leave, her body pleasantly tired and sore in all the right spots. Spock was truly an incredible lover, but she looked forward even more to her first night with Jim; it would surely be even better because of the love between them.

She kissed her finger, then pressed it to Spock's sleeping lips, murmuring a fond farewell even as she stood up, dressed quietly and slipped out after scribbling a quick note to him, having ended one part of her life but eager to begin the new one beckoning to her.

Upon returning to her own quarters, Christine showered and changed into a nightgown, activating her voice-operated stereo system to her favorite instrumental pieces from the last three centuries before getting into bed and falling asleep to the strains of Ravel's _Bolero_, which provoked dreams of both her night with Spock and what was likely to transpire during the upcoming night with Jim. Surely no woman could have been as lucky as she. How many women could seduce a Vulcan one night, then begin a liaison (and most likely a long-term one, at that) with an equally extraordinary Human the following night?

Part of her wished that she had felt up to going to Kirk's quarters, but she was certain that if she had, she could never have resisted him. Spock's tenderness laced with passion had exhausted her, albeit pleasantly so, so she needed to get some rest first in order to be able to satisfy Jim...then if things went as she intended, she would wear _him_ out.

Spock awakened and rolled over, reaching for Christine, but found only a note on her pillow. He sat up in bed and situated himself before beginning to read, unbidden tears misting his eyes upon hearing her voice in his mind, a tender, melodic voice, even as he noted her fine hand, every bit as lovely as she was:

_My dearest Spock…_

_Thank you for a wonderful night. I will never forget it; neither will I ever forget you or the time we have shared together. For so long I had hoped and prayed that we would spend our lives together, and if it hadn't been for Jim, I feel certain that we would have. I have no doubt that you truly care deeply for me now; it's only the timing of same that stinks. You will always be special to me and I hope we can always be friends—but my heart lies elsewhere now._

_I wish you only the best of everything in your life…but most of all, I wish you the kind of love I have found. I'm not holding it against you, but the primary reason for my change of heart toward you is because Jim showed me compassion and understanding at a crucial time—a time when I truly needed you, but you were incapable of it. Please also be assured that you have but to call on me if you ever need me for anything, because in spite of my change of heart, I cannot imagine my life without you in it._

_Your friend always,  
Christine_

A sharp pain lanced through the Vulcan's heart, but he knew he couldn't blame her for feeling as she did—and with a part of himself was glad that she would remain in his life, even if it wasn't in the capacity he would have preferred. He intended to assure her that he would also treasure their time together and would not stand in her way. Just the thought of her with Jim was painful, but he could not begrudge either of them the happiness they so richly deserved—happiness which had been denied to both of them for as long as he could remember.

All the same, he knew he would relive the night he had spent with her every night for at least the foreseeable future, if not the rest of his life. No amount of extra work would make him tired enough to forget her or the memories, feelings, and sensations he had experienced…memories, feelings and sensations he was unlikely to experience again as long as he lived, however hard he tried.

He did another atypical thing upon arising—set up and played a tape of Terran songs Christine had once given him as a present as he prepared for duty. For either his birthday or Christmas, he could not recall at the moment, but considering the present circumstances, he considered it appropriate to listen to it.

There were several songs from both the present century and the 20th, and at this point in time, Spock seemed to particularly identify with the following songs: "Am I That Easy to Forget," "Take Good Care of Her" and by a strange coincidence, the very song that Christine had found so appropriate for _her_ present feelings: "Don't Close Your Eyes Tonight" by John Denver. In his case, the words most relevant to his situation were the following:

"You can lie so close to someone and still feel alone  
And though I heard you say you loved me many times  
While you give me love so beautiful and tender  
Someone else is in your mind."

The words were especially poignant, coming after the night he had spent with Christine—the first and only time he would do so…and he couldn't help thinking that his mother would be most displeased with him when she learned what had happened—that she'd taught him better than that. Maybe he should write her and ask her for advice on how to deal with his feelings. One thing was for certain, though—he would never be able to apologize enough; not even the rest of his life would be enough.

As a result of his own actions, he would now suffer ineffable pain and an eternal sense of loss at the thought of Christine and what might have been, had he not been so stubbornly blind. How could he have been such a complete and total fool? And not only once, but many times over, for continually pushing away and rejecting the one woman who was likely to be the only one who had ever truly loved him...the one very special woman whom he had now lost for all time, whom he himself had driven into the arms of his best friend by his seemingly callous and unthinking treatment of her.

_Christine,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself as he pictured her lovely face in his mind, a lovelight glowing in her smoky blue eyes and a tender smile on her lips…all for him. A love now lost forever  
—and through actions of his own. The most profoundly stupid, boneheaded actions of his life. _Of all the things I will regret in my life,_ he thought, sharp pain once again piercing his heart. _It will be losing you and your most precious love, the truest love that one could ever find, that I will regret the most. _

_I am so sorry, Christine…so deeply and profoundly sorry…for the way I have so unthinkingly abused you, pushed away and rejected the love you once offered me. I will miss_ _you—and it—for as long as I live…and even though you may have forgiven me, I do not think I will ever be able to forgive myself. True love is so rare, yet I threw it away like a piece of garbage—and for what? I should have known that there is never a truly logical reason for rejecting love when it is offered…and now, because of my incomprehensible cowardice, my colossal stupidity, that love is gone forever._

Not even turning off the music stopped his self-deprecating thoughts or the intense hatred of his own thoroughly reprehensible actions. His friends had told him time and again how wrong his treatment of Christine had been, how much he would one day regret pushing her away…and now that day was here.

It would always be here, for he would always carry the picture of her as he had last seen her in his mind, how she had looked and felt in his arms in the afterglow of their tenderly passionate lovemaking… She had been so incredibly lovely—but thanks to his own idiocy, he would never see her that way again. For this reason, he truly believed that there should be a special place in Hell for those such as himself, if there wasn't one already.

Only Spock's happening to look up at the chrono he kept on his quarters wall for his Human friends, since he himself rarely needed it due to his inborn time sense, told him that he had to finish preparing for duty and put his current train of thought "on hold" temporarily. Time enough to continue it later. With that, he ruthlessly pushed the thoughts aside and told himself to concentrate only on his upcoming duty shift as he stepped out his quarters door and headed for the Bridge.

But even as Spock was doing this, the new lovers were indulging in a passionate farewell at the Captain's door. Only last night she had contacted him and asked him if she could come and be with him, and Kirk had jumped at the chance, even though with a part of him couldn't help thinking that it had to be just a bit too soon after her night with Spock…just two days, in fact. On the other hand, he had waited a long time for this and wasn't about to turn down the chance to be with her.

"Christine, you were definitely worth waiting for," Jim crooned in her ear as he held her gently but firmly close to him, showing her without words how much he had appreciated her coming to him last night and consummating their love once and for all. All the same, he was sure it wasn't going to be easy on Spock once he found out; even at that, he was far too happy to dwell on that for very long. What mattered was that they had finally been together…and if he had his way, it would be only the first of many tenderly passionate nights.

"As were you," she crooned back, extremely reluctant to end the kiss, not to mention feel his arms withdraw from around her. When that happened, she felt as bereft as if a part of her were missing. "May we be together again tonight?"

"You need to ask? After what we shared last night, I don't think I'll ever get enough of you!" His hands moved deliciously over her body as his lips once again found hers.

"Nor I of you," she replied against his lips, her voice full of both love and passion—a love and passion she had never dreamed herself capable of feeling. Not even at the height of her infatuation with Spock had she felt like this…and she frankly doubted she would ever feel like this again, for anyone.

Just then the chrono interrupted their interlude and Kirk swore softly under his breath. "Damn. I've got to go. But I'll see you tonight, Christine. I get off at 1800 hours. How about we have dinner—then go to my quarters and feast on each other?"

"Sounds great." After another fierce embrace and passionate kiss, the lovers went their separate ways; Christine knew what she must look like to other crewmembers, but frankly didn't care. What mattered to her was that she was truly loved for the first time since Roger—and once she got to her station, she attempted to immerse herself in work, but instead found herself reliving her night with Jim: the tender passion of his kisses, both on on her lips and body, the gentle strength of his arms around her, how natural it felt to have his body possess hers… Of course, whenever Leonard came by, she did everything she could to make herself look busy, although she knew that he knew her well enough to not be fooled…although he seemed to be allowing her to _think_ that he was.

Their relationship just seemed to deepen, become even more tender and passionate with every passing day. Christine found herself wanting very much for Jim to propose to her, but knew that that was unlikely, until and unless he retired from Starfleet and gave up his Captaincy. And she knew as well as anyone how much he loved being in command of his own ship; even his love for her came in second to that—at least as far as she could tell.

But as it turned out, he had a happy surprise for her roughly six months after their romance had begun and their first extended leave together on the Shore Leave planet; he had set up a romantic assignation spot in what seemed to be a private room of an exclusive French style restaurant. There were even two tall rose-colored candles on the table and a bottle of champagne on ice, not to mention two tall slender goblets full of pale amber liquid. _Dom Perignon_, she noted on the bottle. The bottle alone had to have cost him a month's salary!

His reply seemed to indicate that he had anticipated her questions and decided to make it his business to have the answers. "The only thing that isn't real is the setting. The champagne is very real, as is my love for you … just as _this_ is real." He pulled out a royal blue velvet box and opened it to reveal a two-carat blue sapphire surrounded by a dozen half-carat diamonds. "Christine, my darling, will you make me the happiest man in the Galaxy and do me the honor of consenting to be my wife?"

For a while, she was literally stunned speechless. How could this moment possibly be happening, how could Jim possibly be proposing marriage to her? It was only when he took her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed it that she knew it was indeed real, as was the love in his lovely hazel eyes when he gazed upon her. "Oh, Jim … it's beautiful. The answer is yes. _Yes_! And I assure you, the honor is mine!"

Then he handed her one of the tall slender goblets and touched his glass to hers. "To us…and to a long, happy life together full of love and personal fulfillment." They drank, then put the glasses back on the table. "We've got a lot of plans to make, so we'd better get started. First order of business, however, is that we tell our friends--you tell Bones and Uhura and I'll tell Spock."

Christine knew it wouldn't be easy for the Vulcan to hear, particularly not since he had gone for weeks thinking _he_ would eventually be the one in this position—and now it would be his best friend who would be her husband…Jim who would have the right to hold her, touch her, kiss her and call her his own in every way. She truly hated to hurt Spock, but it was unavoidable and he would have to deal with it as best he could, as the Vulcan he was.

"I'm sure Nyota and Leonard will be very happy for us, although I can't be sure about Spock. You'll just have to break it to him as gently as you can."

"Oh, I will—but even at that, I'm sure it's likely to hit him with the impact of the proverbial ton of bricks."

"I truly wish we didn't have to hurt him, but unfortunately he brought it on himself."

"Just the same, it's not going to be easy," Kirk opined, squeezing her hand as he took another sip of champagne.

Christine followed suit as she returned the squeeze. "But it's not going to get any easier to do by putting it off. We'd better do it as soon as we get back to the ship." And after a romantic candlelit dinner, the couple did just that.

As expected, their friends were thrilled to learn of their marriage plans—even Spock, in his own way (at least outwardly, although Kirk knew him well enough to know how hard he must be controlling). Since he couldn't marry Christine in his Captain's capacity, Kirk had to call upon another friend of his who was a Starfleet chaplain and willing to marry them. They were due to meet him at Starbase 12 for both R&R and the wedding, which would give Jim and Christine a chance for a real honeymoon while there.

McCoy was truly surprised when Spock agreed to be best man; Jim had, in fact, asked him instead, but once the Vulcan heard about it, insisted on performing in that capacity. The Doctor ended up simply giving Christine away, acting as surrogate father, since her parents were unable to come due to both age and distance. All the same, the Doctor knew that when it came time for the wedding, he would be keeping a concerned eye on Spock, ready to offer moral and emotional support should he need it.

It was a week into the aforementioned leave (it was for two weeks, an unprecedented length, which was why Kirk decided to take this opportunity to arrange the wedding with Christine so they would have a chance for a real honeymoon instead of just a weekend together somewhere) before the wedding took place and all stood up in their dress uniforms…all but the women, that is—they chose matching pale blue dresses and flowers in their hair, also carrying bouquets of flowers which matched those in their hair.

Jim's heart pounded as the wedding music began and Christine walked into the room of the Starbase chapel on McCoy's arm. Truly, she had never looked more beautiful to him, and he fell in love all over again. Uhura was a vision in identical blue lace, walking one step at a time as she preceded her friend.

It was unbelievable that he was actually the one getting married to Christine rather than Spock, the long-time object of her affections, but what mattered was that she would belong to him forever after this. He salved his conscience by telling himself that he had given Spock every chance to prove himself, as had Christine; it had been her decision to reject the Vulcan and decide to marry him instead.

Once the ceremony had completed and he had given her the traditional gold band to include with her engagement ring, they were enveloped in kisses and hugs of congratulations from McCoy, Uhura and even the chaplain, a long-time friend of Kirk's from his days on the _Farragut_. Spock simply stoically wished them well, the most emotion he showed being when he had kissed Christine on the cheek and wished her happiness.

Just the same, the Doctor knew there was more behind Spock's stone face than met the eye, just as the others did, but he was the only one who let it be known to Spock (at least at the wedding) by giving him a comforting hand on the shoulder as Jim and Christine were pronounced husband and wife. Spock had given him a grateful half smile; even at that, the Vulcan had closed his eyes in pain and didn't open them again for several minutes. Not until the reception later did Uhura approach him and ask him how he was doing.

"I am well," he returned coolly, taking a swallow of punch. "Why do you ask?"

"I can imagine how you must be feeling right now, considering your own … affection for Christine."

Spock knew she had him there, so he didn't bother trying to deny it. "I will … always have … affection for Christine. Jim, too. They will always be my friends."

"And mine," Uhura declared … then shocked him by hugging him fiercely. He had put his own arms around her before realizing what he had done, but by that time he chose not to withdraw them. Fortunately he had managed to finish his punch; otherwise he would surely have spilled it.

Also, Spock found himself enjoying her warmth, closeness and the smell of her exotic perfume more than he wanted to admit. In fact, he even stunned her by asking her out for that evening, although he didn't consider it a "date" as such, just two friends sharing a mutual interest. Of course, he had always had a positive talent for denying his true feelings, so it was just as likely that he had latched onto her on the rebound as anything else.

Just the same, it could easily change into something more over the ensuing months left in their mission—and when it did, maybe (just maybe, mind you) there would be _another_ wedding. And maybe his feelings for her could never be the caliber of those he had for Christine, but she had always had a place in his heart anyway, so how hard would it be to make an even larger place?

It was several months later that the relationship did indeed evolve into a genuine romance, although the two were very discreet about it, since Spock didn't want anyone (not even their closest friends) to know until he decided to spring it. Until then, it would remain a secret just between himself and Uhura. By this time, he even knew what it was like to kiss her and caress her in a romantic manner—and had even had a "nightcap" with her which had ended up a passionate night together and she had spent the night with him.

It also took this long for Christine to realize that her friend had become embroiled in a romance of her own, although Nyota would never elaborate on just who the man was that made her eyes go all soft with tenderness and her cheeks blush so deeply that it showed even through her dusky skin. Of course, she knew enough not to pressure her; if Ny wanted her to know, she would tell her.

She had her suspicions as to just who it was, of course, but meanwhile, was too wrapped up in her new marriage to dwell on it overmuch. In fact, by this time, she even suspected that she was pregnant, since she had been feeling sick for at least the last week, not to mention bloated and tired. She made a mental note to make an appointment with Leonard to see whether or not her suspicions were true.

And they were. What's more, Christine had even gotten in contact with Jim's former lover Carol Marcus and managed to convince her to at least send him updates on their son David, if only through her. In return, she would send periodic updates on her pregnancy and own child once she gave birth, since they would be half-siblings. This was another thing Jim would always love her for; it seemed that women could often talk each other into doing things that men couldn't. He had no idea how, of course, but what mattered was that he would finally get updates on David, not to mention pictures.

He also suspected that his closest friend was embroiled in a romance of his own, but couldn't have said just who he was involved with, although like Christine, he had his suspicions, knowing Spock as well as he did. He didn't pressure him, however, figuring if Spock wanted him to know, he would tell him. For the moment, he was just thankful that his friend wasn't alone and had some romantic happiness to occupy him.

With any luck, he would even decide to bond with and marry the lady in question—but he would have to wait and see on that. For the time being, he would simply revel in his new-found happiness with Christine and the knowledge that she carried his child…and if he had his way, it would only be the first of many they would have together, although it would definitely not be _his_ first.

Certainly he had never imagined that he would ever end up with Christine and Spock with someone else aboard ship (most likely Uhura), but as before, what mattered was that he and his friend both had ladies they loved (or at least had "deep affection for," as Spock usually put it). And if the fates were kind, they would both stay with said ladies for the remainder of their natural lives—and vice versa, all of them sharing life, love, children…and friendship.


End file.
